"Really, Arthur? Ten quid?"
"What? Should I give her more?" he responds cluelessly, flipping through the bills in his wallet.
Gwen scoffs. "Ten bloody quid, and it's not even one of her big teeth! What are you going to give her then, fifty?"
"Well what do you think is reasonable?"
"I think a pound would be very generous. I was going to give her fifty pee."
"Fifty... What is she going to do with that?"
"Save it! It's good practice for her. If you give her that much she'll be yanking her teeth out prematurely."
"Fifty pee, though," he sits down, scratching his head, and Gwen gives him a wry smile.
"You spoil her."
"So what?"
"So, do you want her to be a brat like you were?"
He snorts ungratefully. "No, I suppose not. But it's the tooth fairy giving it to her, not me."
"The tooth fairy has a budget, too." Gwen rolls her eyes. "Tell you what, give me fifty pee and I'll put some glitter on it. I promise you she'll be happy."
He considers before digging in his pocket for change.
"If you put glitter on it, the shops might not accept it," he reasons as she comes to collect, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"If they don't accept it, I'll just have a word with them about the value of tooth fairy currency and swap it out when she's distracted."
"You're much too practical, my love," he murmurs, kissing her. "So... Can I give her a tenner when she gets the big ones out, then?"
"You can give her a pound, and no more. If that's not enough, just put what you want in her trust fund."
Arthur grumbles, wondering when his wife became more stubborn that him.